


Infelicitous

by Nisaki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Jared, Bottom Sam, Canon Compliant, Coda, Dean crosses alone, Episode: s06e15 The French Mistake, Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Smut, Top Dean, dialogue from the ep, implied bearding, mentioned J2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29405610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nisaki/pseuds/Nisaki
Summary: Dean falls through the window into a bizarre world where the man who looks exactly like Sam is called Jared.Meeting someone like Jared is...complicated.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Jared Padalecki/Dean Winchester
Comments: 35
Kudos: 106





	Infelicitous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LaughableLament](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughableLament/gifts).



> Ahhhh L, happy belated birthday and early Valentine's! I hope you like this <3

It's a moment unlike anything else.

He's been through a lot in his life, death, Hell, Heaven. But the feeling that zips in his spine is new. He flies across the room, a buzz of energy rippling through him and he knows this will be bad so he acts on instincts. He pushes Sam away from it, away from harm. His body hits the window, and he protects his face with both arms and braces for the impact on the other side.

It's soft.

He opens his eyes and rolls to his feet, adrenaline rushing in his veins. Instead of the hard concrete and the storm, he's standing on a soft mattress. Besides him, Sam makes a noise. A foreign one Dean can't catalogue and he whirls to face his brother, arms extended and ready for anything.

Sam straightens himself up, a goofy smile on his face and he's not looking back and Dean but at the many people and cameras and shit ton other crap Dean's just now noticing.

"Cut! Jared, Jensen! That was outstanding!" A bald, fat man shouts. He's got a big smile on his face and he's the only one seated in the middle of others. They start talking all at once, about the scene and lighting and...

Him and Sam talking their feelings on the impala and something about hate mail.

"Sammy? I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

Sam's face does something, a blink and you'll miss it pain, confusion then a blank expression. He lifts his brow at Dean and Dean's stomach falls.

It's not Sam. He doesn't know why he's so sure of it but he is.

It's not Sam.

"Who the fu―"

"That's a wrap on Jared and Jensen!"

Dean's sentence is cut short as a blonde, short woman walks and drags not-Sam away, calling him Jared. He follows on instinct, because that thing might not be Sam but it looks like him and it's as good a place as any to start. His way is cut by another woman.

"Jensen, there you are! Let's just get you in the chair," she says. She's surprisingly strong, pushes at him until he's seated and he's too disoriented and clueless to do anything but repeat "Chair" after her like a total idiot.

She gets a tissue and starts wiping at his face, talking about removing his makeup and he doesn't even have the time to tell her that he doesn't wear fucking makeup because apparently he does and the tissue has something on it, something that looks suspiciously like...well  _ makeup _ .

He stares at himself in the mirror and drags a hand on his cheek, feeling the tacky material on his fingertips.

"Oh crap," he laments. "I'm a painted whore."

He surrenders for the two minutes it takes for her to clean his face, his mind a whirlwind of possibilities. Maybe not-Sam isn't the out of place thing, maybe everything is where it's supposed to be except Dean.

It takes him a five minutes stroll around what's obviously a filming set to confirm the theory. The douche angel zapped him into another dimension, where he's a fictional character played by someone named Jensen Ackles and Sam is played by a polish dude.

Jared Padawhatthefuckever.

Everything is a mess.

There's three impalas, Jensen is a prissy bitch who's been on an actual honest to God, motherfucking soap opera, and Jared...

Well, Jared has a puppy smile for everyone except him.

Except  _ Jensen _ , whatever.

Dean still follows him. He can't help it, the guy is this universe's Sam so he must be a good person, and he looks familiar. Dean needs something familiar.

"Hey, hey polish dude! Wait!"

Jared freezes, he turns to him, eyes narrowed and lips pinched. "Do you think this is funny?"

"Dude, seriously. I have no idea how to get out of here and I need your help."

Jared huffs and twirls away dramatically, a move so unlike Sam Dean has to stare. He blinks the shock away and hurries his steps. "Hold right up, dude!" He grips Jared's arm and pulls him around so they're face to face again. Jared is angry and it's another thing that's staggering because even like this, it's not Sam's anger.

"Whatever you're trying to do, quit it," Jared says through gritted teeth. Dean tightens his hold, leans in close.

"Look me in the eye and tell me I'm your prissy co-star."

Jared opens his mouth then he falters, his bitchy expression melting to confusion then he gapes.

"Is this...a character bleed?" Jared says, but he sounds unsure. Dean inhales.

"Listen, a douche angel sent me here, I'm not sure what happened to Sam, and I don't know what the fuck is happening here but I need to get back to my brother."

Dazed, Jared glances around then rubs at his face with both hands. "Either this is a prank or I'm really going crazy."

Dean smiles. "Crazy is what I do, now show me the way out, kid."

Jared, understandably skeptical, nods his head. Dean thinks he's not believing him yet, just playing along to see where this is going but Dean can work with that.

"I checked the bizarre set room, everything in it is fake and I need to reverse the spell to get back home. I need to get some stuff."

"Spell. Right," Jared mutters. "Um...Let's get to mine then we can talk about it?"

"Yeah, alright."

Walking with Jared through the set is a revelation. Dean has never seen someone so good with people, he imagines Sam might've been like this in a different world. The thought makes him uneasy because Sam  _ is _ like this in a different world. Jared is Sam in a different world, one without monsters.

One without Dean.

Jared greets everyone by name, has special handshakes with half of the set, waves to the ones who can't hear him and is generally too happy and energetic it's giving Dean whiplash. He knows the man isn't his brother, but he can't help the warmth blooming in his chest at seeing Jared's easy smiles.

Everyone casts them confused glances, asks how come they're talking now. The PAs, the makeup girl, the cameraman. The only person who isn't surprised they're walking side by side is fake Cas, who's called Misha.

Mi-fucking-sha. Dean can't wait to go back.

The drive adds more distress to Dean. Jared calls him Jensen, the driver calls him Jensen. They're in fucking Vancouver. By the time they arrive, Dean thinks he's all maxed out on the bizarre and is immediately proven wrong when Ruby greets them.

"Hey honey," she says to Jared in a mock tone. Her face morphs to confusion when she sees him and Dean feels his insides shiver with ghost disgust.

"Ruby?" he exclaims. "You married fake Ruby?"

The fact that other dimension Sam ended up with Ruby of all people makes something twist in his intestines, like a serpent has coiled there, wrapping itself slowly around Dean's innards and squeezing. Why Ruby? Why not fake Jessica, or fake Madison, or fake Sara? Why the fucking bitch Dean hates the most?

"Right," she sneers. "That one never gets old."

He scowls at her and doesn't answer, glaring her down. She senses it because she takes a step back and looks to Jared with a raised eyebrow.

"What's up with him?"

"Nothing," Jared fidgets. "Listen, we'll talk after you get back from your dinner, alright?" She looks skeptical but she nods, skips her way to him and kisses him on the cheek. Before she leaves, she throws Dean a nasty glare, one he's familiar with. It looks like the looks he gives whatever he thinks might hurt Sam and for a second he's baffled for another reason.

Does this bitch really think he'd hurt Jared? He stops at the thought. He shouldn't be feeling this protective over the dude but for some reason, he is. He's offended that people assume he might hurt him and he's furious at this world's version of himself. Wonders what the fucker did to have this reaction.

"So, Jens―"

"Dean," Dean growls. Jared flinches back, his lips a thin line and his eyebrows furrowed. He looks the most similar to Sam like this and Dean's heart bangs in fear and frustration. He needs to get back to Sam's side as soon as possible, he has no time to worry about what his douche-y other dimension self did.

"So this is how you want to do it?" Jared glowers. "Three years without talking and you need to hide behind your character to speak to me? That's real impressive, Jens―"

Dean grabs Jared's wrist, twists it behind his back and slams him face first against the wall, pins him there with his own body. Jared gasps out a pained sound, his body shivering under Dean's and Dean tightens his hold on Jared's wrist, pushes at his nape with his other hand.

He pitches his voice low and threatening. "I don't give a fuck if you believe me or not, but I gotta get back to my brother and you gonna help, like it or not."

Jared jerks in his hold, so weak. If this were Sam, Dean would be kicked in the balls. He hisses a  _ Stay _ and presses harder and Jared settles, panting. Heat stirs in Dean's gut, a deep buried desire swirling like smoke. Dean must stop cataloguing all the ways this man  _ isn't _ his brother because he knows where that road leads. He knows where he wants it to lead and he will not do this to himself.

He jolts away. Jared turns to him slowly, his lashes clogged with moisture and Dean curses. Fucking puppy eyes.

"I need saint bones and lamp blood for the reverse spell, you help me I'll be out of your hair, you get Mr. Soap opera back and you guys can work out whatever got you all teary eyed and sniffle-y, Capisce?"

Jared nods. He talks no further, brings Dean a laptop and a credit card and lets him be. Dean browses the internet, buys the things he needs and feels guilt gnawing at his insides. The kid had that kicked puppy look Sam gets sometimes, and he knows the man isn't his brother but the urge to soothe him is almost as strong. He huffs and closes the laptop and springs up.

Marching around the house takes a lot of time, it's huge and extravagant. Jared's pictures everywhere, and Ruby's too. The wedding pictures displayed on every wall like they have something to prove. Dean rolls his eyes at them as he passes them by. He hates how much he hates this, can't deal with any version of Ruby getting any version of Sam.

It's just wrong.

Halfway up the stairs the sounds of muffled crying make their way to him and he bites the inside of his cheek, faltering on the last step. He balls his hands and turns down. This is not his problem, he doesn't care. He needs to get through the night so he can get back to Sam.

He throws himself on the couch back in the living room and forces himself to sleep.

* * *

Jared keeps his silence the next morning.

The buff driver from yesterday picks them up and Dean tells him to take them to the airport. Buff doesn't complain, but he locks eyes with Jared in the rearview mirror, only turns the wheel after Jared nods his head.

Jared is a mess, hair standing every which way and bags under his eyes, his scowl is of epic proportions. Eyes fixed on his window, he ignores Dean for the entire time it takes them to go to the airport then to the set. He escapes the car like it's on fire, hurrying to change and get his makeup on.

Dean tries to get the set emptied out only for Baldy-director to tell him they must finish filming before anyone leaves. Dean knows zip about acting and a whole lotta nadda, and he makes a fool of himself as they scream cut and cut and cut in clear mounting frustration and confusion.

That's what finally gets Jared to believe him.

He pulls him aside and stutters many  _ How _ s and  _ Why _ s.

"I told you, an angel zapped me here."

"But you, you're...You're not supposed to be real!" Jared has his hair arranged like Sam's, wearing his flannel, but his eyes are not the same. There's a glint of innocence that's long gone from Sam's eyes, a touch of bewilderment, the parting of his lips awed and the way he's looking at Dean...

It makes him feel like a superhero. It's the way Sam used to look at him when he was too young to know better.

Jared's awe and excitement melts, his face pales and his eyes widen. "Is Jensen there? In your world? With the angels and the..."

"That's the reasonable conclusion, yeah."

Jared's eyes tear up and his bottom lip trembles. And seriously, what's with this dude. Dean sighs, pats his upper arm in bleak comfort and tries a smile.

"I'm doing the spell now, so you'll get him back in no time. Help me?"

Jared wipes at his face and nods.

It takes less than two minutes, and as Dean draws the arrow in the opposite direction of the one Balthazar drew, his heart sinks. It feels too easy.

He jumps at the window nevertheless, feels the fake glass breaking against him and he closes his eyes and hopes.

"Dean?"

The voice is familiar but the inflection is wrong. Dean groans.

"Son of a bitch."

He gets up and looks at Jared. "Sorry, kid."

Jared shrugs, gives him a hesitant smile. "You'll find a way though, right?"

Dean isn't sure. He's not the optimistic one, not the one who comes up with solutions either, and Sam isn't here to fix shit for him but Jared is giving him that wide-eyed, awestruck look again, like he believes Dean can do anything just because he's Dean. He gets a flash of six years old Sam, small and with a gap in his front teeth, staring up at Dean like the sun can only shine if Dean says it can. His heart thuds painfully but he lifts the corner of his mouth in a cocky smile and puffs up his chest.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

They don't have time before someone rolls out of the window, lands gracefully in a crouching position. He's wearing all black like one of those ridiculous matrix agents.

"You!" Dean shouts. The angel rises up to his full height and reaches out for them. Instinct moves him and he pushes Jared behind him. Virgil's hand touches his head and Dean shuts his eyes.

Nothing happens.

Virgil retracts his hand, stares at it with his brows furrowed. Dean smirks.

"Sorry dude," he says. "Mojo-free zone." He punches the angel, sends him reeling back. He delivers another punch then another. "Makes you nothing but a dick," he taunts, before he kicks Virgil's knee. He crumbles and Dean straddles him, pins him to the floor and rains hits on his face.

Jared stands to the side, horrified and pale and someone shouts then two men are restraining Dean, pulling him away from Virgil. The douche escapes and Dean curses, the men don't let go of him until Jared interferes and pulls them away.

"It's alright," he says. "He was protecting me."

"He was beating the poor extra half to death!" One of them protests. Jared hardens his face.

"The extra attacked me first!"

The issue doesn't seem to have ended there, but Jared ignores the chaos and grabs his wrist, pulls him away from everything. Once they're alone again, he takes both of Dean's hands in his. Dean is mesmerized. Sam's hands, graceful and big, tanner than his, holding his own with such care it makes his throat constrict. 

"You're hurt," Jared whispers, passing his thumb over Dean's broken knuckles. Dean's chest squeeze.

"Nothing I haven't dealt with."

"We should clean them up," Jared insists. "We have nothing left to do here today. Let's head back." He keeps his hold on Dean's hand after he's done speaking, staring down at them with wet eyes and trembling lips. Dean wants to reassure him but he has no words, doesn't know how to speak to someone like Jared.

"He used to fight for me, too," Jared says softly. He lifts his face up, the look in his eyes feels like a punch to the gut. Swirling colours in his irises, the moisture makes them look like tide lines.

It's the anguish sparkling on Jared's lashes like crystal that pushes Dean to move. He takes one hand back, cups Jared's face and wipes at the gathering tears.

"What happened?"

Jared lets out huff. "This could lead to a chick flick, sure you can handle it?"

Dean laughs. "I'll take my chances." His hands fall to his sides. Jared sighs and walks in front of him.

"Let's get back."

Dean doesn't press. They drive back in a silence so different from the ones they shared, Jared is far away, his temple against the glass and his eyes hazy. He looks broken and Dean would gladly punch Jensen in the face for making him look like this.

Jared kept on his costume, Sam's flannel and the faded yellow Jacket. When they arrive, he guides Dean to the living room, sits him on the black leather couch and disappears for a few moments, comes back with a first aid box. The silence turns into a thick shroud, Jared purses his lips as he dabs spirit on Dean's small wounds. It doesn't even hurt, this insignificant thing, broken knuckles. But Jared acts like he's saving Dean's life, so Dean lets him. He lets out a wheezy breath, tear shimmers in his eyes and Dean sighs and pulls his hand back.

"Kid, this isn't healthy."

Jared snorts. "To hear this from you," he trails off and shakes his head, throws himself back on the couch. "Jensen and I used to be really close, then we got drunk."

Dean adjusts his pose so he's facing Jared.

"Then we had sex." Jared's hands shake so he clasps them together. "And it ruined everything. Now he won't even look at me," he sniffles. "When you arrived, and spoke to me I was mad but I was also hopeful. I truly believed it was his way of approaching me after so long." Jared's voice breaks and tears slide down his flushed cheeks. Dean can't help it, he moves, wipes away at the tears with the back of his fingers, relishing the fact that he isn't afraid to do this here. Because as much as those tears hurt him, this isn't Sam and Dean doesn't need to pretend it doesn't break him apart to see him cry.

Jared turns his face, his cheek squished against the back of the couch. "You love him a lot," he says. Dean freezes, tries to retrieve his hand but Jared traps it against his skin and closes his eyes. "I know you do. He loves you too, you know."

"Kid..."

"I know you only care because I look like him and you can't bear the pain on my face."

Dean averts his eyes. Too much for being able not to pretend.

"And you can't call me by name," Jared goes on. Dean's head snaps to him, he blinks. Jared laughs. "You didn't notice, huh? You call me Kid, or Kiddo."

Dean gulps. He searches for words but his brain is buzzing with too much and he can't speak. Jared is on to him, reading every emotion like it's spilled out in detail. He stares at Dean for long moments, then he closes his eyes and lets out a breath, when he lifts his lids, the look in his eyes knocks the air out of Dean.

"Sammy," he breathes. Sam smiles. No, it's not Sam. He needs to, needs to...

"Don't fight it," Jared says, breaking the intensity of his expression. "I'm using you too, we can be good replacements."

Dean's heart bangs, his muscles quiver. Jared leans closer, and he's Sam again. Too good at this, Dean thinks. So unfair.

"It's alright. I want you."

And it sounds exactly like Sam, and so much like everything Dean's ever wished to hear that he can't find it in himself to move away when Jared closes the space between them and kisses him. It's too soft, Jared's lips and his hands on Dean's neck and cheeks, his sighs.

He still sounds like Sam, he's trying but Dean knows he isn't and clings to the thought. Because this isn't Sam and it's alright for Dean to want him. He flips them over, crawls between Jared's eagerly spread legs and bites at his lips, the sound he gets is desperate and half drunk.

They're both hard, they're frantic. Dean presses his hips down, drags his hard on over Jared's and hisses. Jared tugs at his clothes, pushes his jacket off of him and strips him from his shirt. Dean sits up, reaches back and pulls his shirt off and Jared gasps. His palms slide over Dean's skin, eyes following the movement. He bites his lips then brings his eyes back to Dean's. Filled with desire and something hesitant.

Jared wiggles up against the couch, lifts his arms up and Dean helps him remove his clothes.

Smooth, perfect tanned skin greets him and Dean takes it in, all the ways this isn't Sam shines clear. No tattoo on the gorgeous bump of his collar bone, no scars for wounds Dean had sewn with trembling hands. Dean leans down, smears his tongue on Jared's pulse and licks his way up to his ear, sucks the lobe into his mouth and gnaws.

Jared bucks under him, moans, his fingers clutch at Dean's hair, wraps long legs around Dean's waist and thrusts up, cramming their dicks together. Dean groans, places his hands on Jared's shoulders and presses him down, kisses him deeper.

He breaks away, unbuckles his belt. Jared is staring at him with wide eyes and red lips, his hair messed up and his skin pink and Dean feels like he's stealing this from Sam, like he's getting something he shouldn’t have. He palms at Jared's hip, pats his flank.

"Roll over," he orders. Jared scrambles to obey, kicking his jeans and boxers and bracing his hands on the couch's arm, tight ass high in the air and on display. Jared digs his knee near the back of the couch, lets one leg off of it and slides it away, opening himself up so Dean can see his hole. Dean’s throat clicks and he looks this way and that, eyes zooming in on the first aid kit.

"There's lube and condoms there," Jared croaks, his voice scratched. Dean shivers, imagines Sam like that, imagines Sam's voice after he fucks his throat. It makes desire pool hot as fire in his gut and he moves fast, snatches the box. He takes the condom and the lube out, throws them on the couch and climbs behind Jared again, fits his hands on his hips and marvels at how his fingers look on those hip bones.

He kisses a line over Jared's spine, traces the bead of it with tongue and teeth, up to the vulnerable curve of his shoulder. He digs his teeth in, tastes the salt. Jared jolts, moans, pushes himself back on Dean's hard dick so it slips between his ass cheeks and Dean fucks forward, the head of his dick catches on Jared's rim, makes them both gasp at the tease.

"Dean," Jared wheezes. "Please."

"Yeah, yeah." He hurries to slick his fingers with lube, inserts both at once. Jared keens, bucks his hips back and whines. Dean screws his fingers, stretches them and adds another as he pours lube over them. It's hurried and messy, but doesn't have the patience to wait. He rolls on the condom and lubes himself up, grips Jared's hips and slides in with jerky thrusts. Jared's moans go higher and breathier, he hangs his head and pushes his ass back, lets out a long sound as Dean settles all the way in.

"Fuck," he says. "It's so good. Feels so good."

Dean leans down, covers as much of him as he can, plasters his chest to Jared's back and loops an arm around his chest. He pulls out slowly, Jared's breath hitching at the movement, then he fucks in. He builds it up fast, and soon he's fucking with a force he's never dared use on his usual hook ups. Jared doesn't mind, thrusts back and keens with every harsh shove of hips, the sounds he's making desperate and obscene and so fucking good Dean closes his eyes and drowns in them.

This is as close as he's going to get. 

"It's alright, Dean," Jared gasps, fucking himself back on Dean's dick. "You can say his name, it's good."

And Dean's chest unfurls with the permission. He grinds his hips down, closes his eyes and parts his lip. "Sam," he says, finally allowing himself to say it aloud even though he's always dreamt about it with every willing body trapped under him. "Sam, Sam. Sammy. God, Sammy."

He explodes, heat blinding him and pleasure rocking him. He keeps his rhythm steady, reaches around and jerks Jared off and feels him tighten as his orgasm takes him under. Jared collapses face first into the mess he's made and Dean falls on him, panting into his hair. He lifts his hips, slides out and Jared whines.

"Sorry," Dean whispers. "Was too rough."

Jared shrugs under him, reaches up and slaps at Dean's back. "Crushing me."

Dean gets up, helps Jared stand then gets rid of the condom. Jared smiles at him.

"I'll shower upstairs, you can shower here." He points in the direction the bathroom is in and Dean nods.

* * *

The second he steps out of the shower, Ruby rushes to them, tears streaking her face as she frantically calls for Jared.

"What's wrong?" Jared says, catching her around the waist.

"Misha!" she weeps. "He's been stabbed to death." 

Jared pales.

"Where?" Dean asks.

Ruby turns to him sharply. "Where?" She spits. Jared is too shaken up to be much of help, so Dean struggles to get the location out of her. It turns out to be more useful than he was hoping, a way to get back home to Sam. He clutches at the key Balthazar gave him as he walks back into Jared's home. Ruby is nowhere to be seen and Dean somehow knows Jared is in his room so climbs the stairs, skipping two at a time. 

He finds Jared curled with his knees hugged to his chest, his head buried in the fold of his arms and his shoulders shaking. Dean closes the door behind him, sits beside Jared on the bed and gently combs his fingers through Jared's hair.

"That's just one angel here," Jared sobs. "Jensen is there, where all of them are. What if he's hurt?" He lifts his head, looking absolutely miserable, every line in his face pointing downward and his eyes filled with tears.

"Shhh." Dean shuffles closer, extends his arms and Jared throws himself into them. He hides his face in Dean's neck, coil himself smaller to better fit against his chest. Dean pulls him in, pats his head. "Sam will keep him safe, and I know how to get back now. Tomorrow, Raphael will reach with his powers from the other side, all I have to do is pass through the window. You'll get Jensen back, I promise."

Jared nods, presses closer and sighs, getting heavier. Dean stays where he is until Jared's breath is shallow and regular in sleep, then he settles him down and covers him before he leaves the room.

* * *

The set the next morning is in complete chaos. Virgil comes in guns blazing, shooting people right and left. Dean rushes towards him, tackles him in and kicks the gun away. He punches him until he passes out.

"Dean!" Jared calls. Dean turns to him, Jared's pointing at the window. The glass has a red mark on it and Dean sighs in relief. He stands up, winks.

"Goodbye, Jared." 

He catches Jared smiling and before he can even move, something sucks him in through the window. He's back to his world, lands on the asphalt outside his motel room.

Sam's nowhere in sight but a black, well dressed lady is standing in front of him.

"The keys," she hisses.

This can't be good.

* * *

Castiel is an asshole. Dean fumes as he watches his supposed friend making excuses for using him as a decoy.

"Sam was supposed to go over with you," Castiel says.

"Not making me feel better, Cas," Dean growls. Castiel sighs, shakes his head like Dean just doesn't understand. He steps close, raises two fingers to Dean's forehead but Dean steps back, glares.

"I'll take you to Sam," Castiel offers. Dean nods, forces himself to relax. He hears the flutter of wings, then the jump of his innards, the split second nausea and then he's somewhere else.

A room nicer than he's used to, a double bed. Sam staring at him from near a table. Castiel doesn't stay.

"Dean!" Sam gasps, knocks the chair in his hurry to stand up and then knocks the air out of Dean. Their chests collide, Dean wraps his arms around Sam's waist and pulls. Sam laughs in his ear, moves back but leaves his hand on Dean's shoulder. He's studying Dean's face, his smile too happy.

"It's really you, thank god."

Dean smirks. "I take it you met Jensen?"

Sam groans. "I did," he says, walks to the bed and sinks to sit on it. "He's so fucking annoying. I was so close to shooting him. He paid for the room, though. Should see how pissed he was when they told him there are no two queens left."

Dean chuckles. "Glad you didn't kill him, he's got someone waiting on him there."

Sam raises a brow but Dean shakes his head. He walks to Sam, kneels in front of him and cups his face.

"What about you, Sammy? You hurt? Did they give you trouble?"

Sam's eyes soften, he blinks at Dean then tilts his head, leaning into Dean's palm. Dean realizes that he's touching Sam, framing his head with both hands, something he'd never dared to do without an adrenaline rush and his throat clogs.

It's Jared's fault. He gave Dean permission and now Dean thinks he can touch Sam. He's about to pull away but the look Sam's giving him stops him short. He's looking at Dean with wide, wet eyes. A plea in the part of his lips, in the way his breaths come out rattled.

_ He loves you, too _ . Dean hears.

He takes a chance, leans in. Slow, too slow until only a hair of space remains between their lips. Sam's breath hitches, Dean feels the hot air on his mouth and surges forward.

They slot together, lips parting and kiss deep. Sam moans and Dean eats it up, licks inside his mouth and groans at the taste. Beer and something else that could be Sam's fucking salad, Dean presses harder and Sam opens his jaw and lets him, his big hands clinging to Dean's shoulder blades, pulling him closer.

Dean keeps kissing him, his knees aching as much as his heart is, but the need burning in his bones is so much stronger so he stays where he is, kneeling before Sam and kissing up into his mouth. It feels fitting, like he's somehow begging and praying and being absolved.

Sam hiccups, pushes him back so he falls on his ass and follows him, straddles his hips and presses him down to the ground. Dean's head hits the carpet, but he doesn't give a single fuck. Keeps his lips fused with Sam's, gulping in those gorgeous noises his brother makes along with the sucking smacks of their kiss.

He sneaks his fingers into Sam's hair, tugs on it. Sam whimpers, flattens his chest on Dean’s and undulates his hips, grinding his ass on Dean's erection and sending a wave of want so strong through him it makes Dean gasp. The kiss breaks, they pant into each other. Sam's eyes are glassy, his cheeks flushed and his lips swollen and temptingly crimson.

Dean leans up, pulls the bottom one into his mouth and chews, enjoying the little hurt sounds Sam makes.

"How long?" Sam breathes between them, attaching their mouths in another desperate kiss. "Dean, how long?"

Dean bucks up against him, grips him hard and holds him to his chest, kisses his jaw and neck then his lips again. "Forever," he says. "All the time, Sammy."

Sam keens, falls into him once more and they rock together, their hands frantic as they strip. Sam gets up and pulls him along, he crawls on the bed and throws his head on the pillow, spreads his legs and opens his arms for Dean and Dean can do nothing but follow. Always tapped in Sam's orbit.

"Sammy," he whispers, settles between Sam's legs. Sam wraps him up, brings him into another kiss and Dean's burning from inside out, trembling. He can't stop kissing Sam despite the way his dick is throbbing with need, his heart hammering in his chest and his lips tender.

"Dean, come on," Sam says, arches so their dicks line up. Dean groans, ruts down and looks at them together, so fucking hot. The head of his dick catches on Sam's, their precome mix, makes everything slippery and glistening. He reaches down, wraps his fingers around the both of them and Sam yells, hips flying up and fucking into Dean's fist.

"Stop, no," Sam gasps and Dean whines but he forces his hips to still and retrieves his hand. He locks his eyes with Sam's, sees the heat and want pooling there, black pushing the colours of his irises into a thin ring.

"What's wrong, Sammy?"

Sam pants, a flush covers his chest and neck, raises over his cheeks. He keeps his eyes on Dean, lifts a hand up. Slides the tips of his fingers on Dean's jaw.

"Want you in me, Dean," he says, low and needy and Dean's eyes fall shut at the request, his chest heaves.

"Fuck, Sammy. Yes, anything, baby."

Sam moans, arms loops around Dean's neck and he presses his face to Dean's shoulder, scrapes his teeth there.

"Yeah? You like pet names?" Dean says, touching his lips behind Sam's ear, sucking a mark there and another one on his pulse. "Baby? Darlin’? Sweetheart?"

Sam slaps his arm but he's blushing, and Dean can feel his dick hardening against his, blurting more precome. He grins, plants a soft kiss on Sam's forehead.

"Always been my baby, Sammy. My baby brother."

Sam whines and claws at his back and Dean can't help the happy laugh bubbling in his chest, his smart brother reduced to breathy moans and whines under him, writhing and wanting. Dean's never been more powerful.

He kisses Sam again, reaches to the nightstand and hopes there's lube. Letting out a sound of triumph into the kiss when his hand closes around a slippery bottle. He breaks the kiss, licks his lips, doesn't think about using a condom.

Sam's his everything, they share air and space and bleed on each other. The way Sam is looking up at him tells him Sam feels the same way. He coats his fingers with the lube, rubs them together so it won't be too cold. Brushes the tips over Sam's hole and watches him.

Sam's lids flutter, his chin tips up and he pulls his legs back, gives Dean more room. Carefully, Dean slides in a finger, wiggles it around and fucks it in and out. Sam's breath comes faster, he bears down on Dean's finger, bites his bottom lip and nods. Dean gives him another, too slow so he won't hurt him. Won't ever hurry this up with Sam.

"Fucking hell, Dean," Sam says, strained and raspy. "If you don't hurry the fuck up, I won't suck you off after."

Dean chokes, his dick twitches. He's so fucking hard it should be impossible.

"Don't want to hurt you," he whispers, pressing the words into Sam's neck, sucking another bruise there. Sam bucks his ass down, tightens his arms around Dean and turns to kiss his cheek. It's so soft, Sam's lips catch on his stubble, a wet, warm thing that fleets too soon. Dean's heart stumbles on its next beat.

"Waited too long, Dean," Sam says against his ear. He bites at it, licks the shell. "Please, big brother, don't make me wait more."

Dean closes his eyes on the sudden sting in them, nods his head. He takes his fingers out of Sam, pours lube on his dick and lines up. Sam hooks his legs on his hips, digs his nails in Dean's back and he nods. Dean sinks in.

Sam moans, Dean squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on breathing. Sam is perfect around him, hot and tight and amazing, has Dean shaking with the effort of holding still. Sam's hand slides to his nape, draws him down into a tender kiss. It's barely a brush of lips and a hint of tongue, Sam smiles when they break away his dimples digging into his cheeks.

Dean cups his face, presses the pad of his thumb to the right dimple. Sam realizes what he's doing and smiles bigger, happier and Dean thinks he's dreaming. He wants to stay like this forever, keep this smile on Sam's face. He leans in, licks under his thumb, kisses the same spot. Sam holds him closer, so their chests are pressed tight and when Dean thrusts in, they slide together, slick with their sweat.

Sam's dick is trapped between them, rubs on Dean's abdomen as he fucks Sam. He keeps it slow, long drags of his dick inside Sam and Sam crosses his legs on the small of Dean's back and helps guide him in with every thrust. It feels like the crashing of waves, a powerful steady build up that's sure to take them under and drown them.

Dean's losing his breath and his heart and everything he's held so hard onto, and he can't help but crumble and be remade in Sam's grasp.

"Sammy," he calls. Sam answers him with equal passion, tone just as wrecked. He's rocking against Dean, pawing at his back, scratching skin.

Dean fits their mouths together, kisses Sam as they’re swept away by pleasure. He moans as Sam's ass clamps on him, squeezing too tight and milking him and he collapses on Sam's chest as soon as his orgasm leaves him.

Sam clutches him close, kisses the top of his head and his temple, petting his back and head like he thinks Dean needs soothing. They remain silent for long, Sam's release getting tacky between them. Dean pushes himself up on his forearms, moves to the side and drops himself again.

Sam rolls into him, sliding his hand on Dean's arm then to his back, slowly inching in until he's hiding in Dean's chest. Dean holds him and he sighs.

Words tumble and die in Dean's vocal cords, and he remembers Jared telling him with teary eyes that he and Jensen didn't talk for years after they had sex. It's a fucking nightmare so he forces himself to speak, to get past his fear and discomfort.

"I don't want to stop doing this," he rushes to say. Sam stills and Dean's heart goes to his throat.

"Dean," Sam says, looking right into Dean's eyes now. He stares long and Dean lets him, hopes Sam can see everything and take what he needs. Sam smiles, tucks himself against Dean again and nods.

"Yeah, Dean."

They're dirty and sweaty, but the relief knocks Dean over and he's so sleepy and tired and fucking happy he won't move for anything. Sam wiggles in his arms, pulls at the covers then presses his lips to Dean's tattoo, his lashes sweeping over Dean’s neck as he closes his eyes.

Dean smiles. He doesn't need to move, he has everything he's ever wanted right here in his arms. 

He's never letting go.

-End.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is everything, please leave me some.


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